


The Sense Of Taste

by mvernet



Series: The Five Senses [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sentinel Bingo 2018, Series The Five Senses, Taste, Vertigo - Freeform, mention of past rape, part three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:57:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: Blair is recovering at home from Lee Brackett’s assault and driving Jim out of his mind. Literally.Sentinel Bingo 2018Slash CardPrompt: NeighborsThe Sense Of TastePart Three of “The Five Senses” series





	The Sense Of Taste

Part Three  
The Sense Of Taste

“Jiiiiiiiiiiiim,” Blair whined from his nest of blankets on the couch. “ My feet are freezing. Wouldya bring me some socks? You know, the thick woolly red ones I use for hiking. I think they're in my top dresser drawer.”

Jim’s elation at having Blair whole and home was starting to fade to annoyance. Jim shook himself. Hadn’t he just taken a vow at the hospital to give Blair all the time and patience he needed to recover? He’d only been home three days. Jim cleared his throat and changed his attitude. He would not be annoyed at his beautiful Blair no matter how much he demanded of him.

“Okay, Chief. You still want your tea?”

“Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry to be so useless. Tea would be great. And some of those cookies Mrs. Mineva from downstairs brought over? I love you, man.”

And just like that, all annoyance was gone. Blair had been to hell and back and survived. He deserved all the TLC Jim had in him to give and more.

As Jim fixed two cups of Earl Gray, he remembered the dreadful consultation he had with Blair’s doctor the day after Blair was admitted to the hospital last week. He could almost taste the strong coffee that permeated the air of the room. Jim hoped he would never have to taste it again.

~~~***~~~

Doctor Ames scanned his notes as he gestured for Jim to sit down across from the impressive desk in the consultation room.

“Detective Ellison, I see you are Blair’s medical proxy. May I ask your relationship to Blair?”

Jim stiffened. He had no idea what to say. He quickly decided that it was Blair’s decision how much he wanted people to know and went with a safe reply. “We are partners at work. He rents a room from me, and we are best friends.”

The doctor nodded. “Blair is very lucky to be alive. I just got the analysis back on the substances in the two syringes Captain Banks gave me. The poison was basically snake venom and botanicals. The botanicals were too degraded for positive analysis, but I suspect natural occurring poisons, perhaps Hemlock.”

“Snake venom? My God. I’ve seen men die from snake bites when I was in the army… such a horrible death… Doctor, please.” Jim leaned forward his hands clutched at the arms of the chair, his face pale in anguish, not really knowing what he was asking for.

Doctor Ames raised a hand to reassure and looked over his glasses at Jim, this time really seeing the distraught man in his office.

“Blair is doing fine, Detective. I took care of him once before. I remember his love for life. He is strong and resilient. I released him from ICU . Blair will be settled in his new room and you can see him as soon we are done here. Relax and let me tell you my findings and concerns. Would you care for some coffee?”

Jim nodded and leaned back in his chair. He was acting like a love sick fool. He knew it was no act. “Thanks. Black, two sugars please.” Doctor Ames pressed his intercom and politely requested two coffees. He was as exhausted as Jim looked.

The doctor continued. “I administered a dose of antivenom for Pacific rattlers this morning after getting these results. I’m hoping it will eliminate any remaining toxicity in his organs. There is some minimal damage to his kidneys and liver, but he should recover with bedrest, lots of fluids and a bland diet.” 

“Tea,” Jim said softly while wringing his nervous hands. “Blair loves herbal tea. Can he have that?”

“That’s right. He’s fond of herbal cures and such, isn’t he? Actually I’d advise cutting out herbal concoctions for a while. I wouldn’t want any interactions.” The doctor smiled at Jim. “You might try to sell him on a nice Earl Gray. Tell him space ship captains drink it.”

Jim looked up and was surprised he could throw a smile back at the doctor. Jim took in a deep breath he could smell the coffee coming towards the door. He suddenly realized his last cup had been right before they had let him into ICU to sit with Blair. He wondered if he had zoned on Blair’s essence again. 

“Blair is suffering from severe vertigo and blurred vision. If we don’t see steady improvement in a few days, I’ll order another series of scans. But the first set didn’t show any abnormalities. I want to keep him under observation for a few more days. You said you live together?”

Jim nodded. “I can take time off to care for him. That is no problem. He was hurt because of his work as an observer at the CPD. Anything he needs will be covered. If not by them, then by me personally.”

Doctor Ames nodded and jotted a note on Blair’s paperwork. “He’ll need rest and a lot of patience from you. With the vertigo and vision problems he won’t be able to work or use the computer for a week or so. He won’t even be able to watch TV or read. Cooking for himself is out of the question. And he should use a wheelchair to get around. No walking by himself and absolutely no stairs. I’m sure he’ll be out of sorts with all these restrictions, but all his symptoms should clear up when the toxins are out of his system. I’d hazard a guess at ten days from now.”

The coffee arrived and Jim took his cup thankfully. The first sip exploded in his mouth. The strength of the brew and the sweetness of the sugar seemed to go right to his brain, leaving a trail of heat and flavor behind. The caffeine hit his system and he could feel the capillaries open. He gave out a quiet, “mmm.”

Doctor Ames looked at him and cocked his head. “Cops love their coffee, huh?”

Jim lifted his cup in a salute. “Thank you, I needed this.”

“We’re almost done here, Detective. I’m sure Blair will fully recover under your watchful eye. There… is something I hesitate to tell you, since you are not a relative…”

Jim sipped his coffee looking for false strength. “I’m all he has, Doctor. I wasn’t able to contact his mother. There is no one closer to him than me.”

Doctor Ames put down his cup and folded his hands. “Blair was sexually assaulted. I suspect you know this. Your Captain could not give me details, but he was worried and asked for a thorough examination. He informed me that since the abuser was deseased a rape kit would not be necessary. When I examined Blair, there was very little damage. But I deduced from the injuries he did have that Blair did not normally indulge in that sort of sexual activity. He needs to seek counseling as soon as he feels well enough. Perhaps both of you could speak to your Captain about seeing a psychologist at work? You’ll want to know what he’s going through and how to help him.”

Jim desperately sipped at his coffee, hoping the intense taste would distract him and help keep control of his emotions. Simon had covered for him. Protected Blair when he couldn’t. He had damaged Blair. Physically and mentally. He wondered if Simon now thought of him as a rapist. He couldn’t stand the thought that Blair might think of him that way.

Doctor Ames stood to leave and stopped to pat a silent Jim on the back. “With your support, he’ll be alright. I’m going to check on him now. Take your time, finish your coffee. I’ll meet you at Blair’s room in a few minutes.”

Jim drank the dregs of his coffee. It tasted like ash in his mouth.

~~~***~~~

“Jim. Jim? Don’t you zone on me, man. I’m not supposed to get up by myself, but I’ll come over there and kick your butt if I have to.”

Jim was lost in the bitter tasting memory. But Blair’s worried cries woke him from his daze.

“I’m fine, Chief,” he called back. He grabbed four oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and added them to a tray. He carried it to towards the bundled lump on the couch and placed the tray on the coffee table. “Here’s your tea. Let me help you sit up.” He placed a hand on Blair’s head to steady him and pulled him gently into a sitting position. Blair closed his eyes tightly as the room spin around him like it did everytime he moved his head. 

“I’ll go grab those socks…” Blair’s bandaged hand grabbed at Jim’s wrist. “Wait a minute, Big Guy. Sit with me?” Jim sat and tucked the wayward blankets around his Guide. Blair rested his dizzy head on Jim’s chest, right above his heart. Jim snuggled closer and wrapped an arm around Blair’s shoulders. “Yummmm. Better than Mrs. Mineva from downstairs’ cookies.”

Jim chuckled as he slowly rubbed Blair’s blanket covered arm. “She has a name, Chief. Millie. You sound like an eight year old when you call her ‘Mrs. Mineva from downstairs,’ as if it were her title or something.”

“You’re right. It’s just that everytime I see her or her apartment I feel like I’m in a time warp stuck in 1968”

“Her apartment is certainly retro, I don’t think she’s changed it since the day she got married. To her it must still look as modern as it looked then.”

“Aw, you have a soft spot for her don’t you, Big Guy? I’d be jealous, but then I might not get my share of her awesome cookies.” 

Jim shrugged secretly glad about making Blair feel jealous, even if the object of his jealousy was a gray haired lady in her seventies. “Millie’s husband was a cop He was killed in the line of duty in 1978. His picture in hanging on the wall of honor in the hallway outside of the Commissioners office. I must remind her of him. She’s never said anything. That’s why I help her out. It’s what cops do.”

Blair tried to reach for a cookie, his fingers hitting the edge of the tray, shaking the tea cups. “Dammit!” Jim put a cookie in his hand. “Take it easy, Blair. Your vision is getting better every day. Don’t push so hard.”

“But I don’t feel sick! I keep thinking I want to move and then… BLAM!… the room is spinning. And why am I so tired when all I do is sit on my ass? Oh, man. This sucks big time.”

“Come on, Blair. Enough with the pity party. You almost died a few days ago. We can deal with having you couch bound for a little while. After we finish our tea, you want to go to the park?”

“In a wheelchair? I don’t… well. Not today. Tomorrow maybe.” Jim didn't give up “What if I read to you?”

Blair took a big bite of his cookie and slipped the crumbs in his mouth with his fingers. Jim thought he looked adorable. “Reading sounds good. What you got that I haven’t already read?”

Jim handed Blair his tea and took his own cup in hand. “Joel lent me the Bourne trilogy a few weeks ago. He said they were really exciting spy novels.” Blair looked up and tried to scowl, but only came across as pouty. “Rogue spies? I don’t think so.”

Jim was enjoying the smoky bergamot flavored tea as it slid across his tongue. Blair had informed him that bergamot was a type of bitter citrus fruit similar to a lemon and Earl Grey was the prefered drink of Queen Victoria. He let the flavors separate on his palate. The citrus tang tasted bittersweet against the background of black tea. When he realized what he had said, he almost choked.

“Chief! I’m so sorry. That was so thoughtless of me. I’m sorry…”

“Jim! Chill, man. I asked the question. I’m not going to break down if you mention what happened. As a matter of fact, have you noticed that our pet elephant has moved back into the loft? Only this time he’s sporting a tutu. ballet slippers and practicing pirouettes. Thank the Gods we have high ceilings.”

“Chief?”

“We need to talk about it, man.”

“Chief… I…”

Blair struggled to put down his cup and then did the same for Jim’s. Blair took Jim’s face in his hands and looked into his eyes, trying to focus his own fuzzy vision. “You didn’t hurt me, Jim. You didn’t rape me. The last thing I remember is entering the loft. Doctor Ames said the poison acted like an anesthetic given prior to an operation. He said the memories would not return. That it was best if I let them go and get counseling for anything that bothers me about what happened.”

Jim reached up and wiped a few cookie crumbs away from Blair’s mouth. “I hear you. But I know what I did.”

“What? What did you do? Make tender love to under the most dire of circumstances? Save my life by following a maniacs instructions? He used you as his tool, Jim. You had no control. Lee Brackett raped me when I was unconscious. You had nothing to do with it.”

“That… that’s what Simon said to me. He… he made me change my official statement.”

“Simon spoke to me when I first woke up. He asked some hard questions about our relationship. When he discovered I had no recollection of what happened he said as far as he’s concerned it was all on Brackett. I had no problem with that.”

“Simon saw the tape, Blair. He destroyed evidence. He’s sticking his neck out for us.”

“He’s protecting his family.”

“Yeah, I’ll resign before I see him take a fall for me.”

“It won’t come to that. Simon says even IA wants this one gone and forgotten.” Jim nodded and drew Blair closer to him. He nuzzled into his neck and breathed deep. His tongue flicked out to taste the nectar of the softest spot on Blair’s body. Blair always tasted sweet. An earthy honey blend of clovers and wildflowers, but this one spot on his neck was Blairscent in all its glory. It went beyond a taste Jim could put a name too except the name, Blair.

“Jim. Jim? I’m liking the growling, my missing link, but we still need to push that elephant out of the window. He’s gonna ruin the floors.” 

A tentative knock at on the door had Jim pulling back and standing, while Blair rubbed at his face in frustration. “It’s Millie, Chief. Bearing dinner, smells like.”

“Okay, Link. But we are going to finish this talk.”

Jim smiled as he walked backwards towards the door. “You really need to work on those endearments, Honey. He opened the door and immediately took a covered pot from Millie’s hands. “Come on in, Millie. Blair could use some company.“ Like everything Millie owned the covered pot screamed vintage. The metal pot was thick and vaguely triangular, almost heart shaped with a perfectly matching ornate glass top. The handles on both sides were solidly built and molded to be easy to hold. “This pot is unusual, Millie, “ Jim showed it to Blair. “Oh, well, I dug out my old guardian service pots. I thought I’d do some serious cooking for you boys.” Jim lifted the odd pot to his nose. “Homemade chicken and rice? Ummm. I haven’t had that since I was a kid.” 

“You mentioned Blair needed a bland diet for a while. I thought it would be good for you two have some plain cooking while Blair recovers. I only added parsley to the gravy. I know how sensitive your taste buds are, Jim.”

“Hey, Millie! Thanks. Come in for a while and visit,” Blair called cheerfully from the couch. “That is a big help Millie. Jim’s a good cook, but he’s got enough to do with me being out of commision.” 

Millie sat daintily across from Blair on the yellow chair. “How is your vertigo, dearheart? Imagine being bit by a snake in this day and age. But you boys do love to go off the beaten track, don’t you?”

“I’m not giving up my fishing trips with Jim just because a little low life snake tried to take me down. Anyway, Jim saved me like he always does.”

Jim smiled as he put Millie’s food in some microwave safe bowls for heating later. “Millie? You want your pot back now? I can put it for a quick soak.”

“Thank you, Jim. Yes, I’ll take it back downstairs. It’s a good size for casseroles. I’ll make macaroni and beef for you tomorrow.” Jim licked his lips. Ground beef and elbow macaroni was another of his childhood favorites. Maybe he could request tuna noodle surprise. He was going to enjoy this. He made a mental note to make sure he made Blair a veggie plate to go with it.

Millie, Jim-scrubbed pot in hand, left after a short visit. Blair seemed to be fading right before their eyes, slouching on the couch and listing to one side, hair spread out and eyes blinking slowly. Ever cheerful, Millie called back at the door. “Feel better, Blair. I’m glad you stopped calling me ‘Mrs. Mineva from downstairs.’ Made me feel like a fairy tale character. Although you two are certainly charming princes.”

Jim closed the door behind her and smiled down on his Guide who had already fallen asleep. Jim lifted his legs onto the couch and covered him again, tucking the blankets around his softly snoring form. He placed a pillow under his head and played with his curls for a few moments, just enjoying being able to do so. Blair was so brave in the face of what Jim considered a disastrous blow to their friendship. Jim thought their partnership might be over and was hardening himself against the inevitable heartache. But it never happened. Blair truly seemed to be handling things well, while Jim had yet to forgive himself for hurting the most precious thing in his life.

~~~***~~~

“Whoa, Jim. Like, gravy as a beverage. What a concept. I mean this stuff is good, The Gods bless Millie and her cooking fires. But retro eating, man. Didn’t they even have green veggies in her day?”

Jim was thoroughly enjoying his second helping of chicken and dumplings. Listening to Blair gripe was like dinner with a show. He was feeling better, his double vision had cleared up. He was able to use the computer or read and he stretched his limits every day, till Jim would finally pull the plug, take off his glasses and cuddle him instead. He was able to walk around the loft on his own as long as he walked slowly and kept his fingertips on furniture edges for balance. Sitting at the table with Jim, joining him for meals was no problem now.

Blair watched as Jim lifted another piece of gravy soaked dumpling to his mouth. Watching Jim eat Millie’s home cooking was a trip in itself. He savored the rich creaminess of the broth with closed eyes and slightly opened mouth. A soft moan slipped past his fully engaged tongue that had Blair drooling for more than comfort food.

“Damn, Jim. Save some of those emotions for me. You can call me dumpling anytime if you taste me like that.”

Jim blinked several times. “Huh?”

Blair pushed his half-eaten bowl away. “Jim we need to talk man. I mean if you are done making love to your spoon with your mouth.”

“Sure, Honey.” Jim said without sarcasm, which worried Blair. He decided to jump right in and get it over with.

“Jim have you given thought to what I told you? What happened to me was not your fault.”

“I thought about it, Honey. I couldn’t control a snake biting you. We always take proper precautions when in the wilderness. It was just an accident.” Jim answered in a sort of soft dreamlike voice while finishing his bowl. Blair’s blood ran cold. Something was wrong.

“Jim? What are you talking about?”

“You got bit by a snake, but you’re getting better. The snake is dead. I don’t have to worry. Want to go to the park? I know you don’t like to be restricted by it, but I love pushing you in your wheelchair. All the people can see how lucky I am to have someone so beautiful to take good care of.” Jim stood and placed his dishes in the sink.

“Jim? Pookie, it’s dark out. Wouldn’t you rather watch a game on TV?” Blair spoke gently infusing a deep timbre in to his voice that he used when he guided Jim. Jim had a smile on his face, but seemed to ignore Blair. Jim walked purposely towards the door.

Blair panicked and stood too rapidly. He over balanced and crashed to the floor dizziness washing over him. “Jim! Jim, don’t leave. Come back. I… I need you, Jim.”

Jim stood halfway out the door and shook his head. He looked around as if he were waking up. He saw Blair on the kitchen floor and ran to him.

“Shit. Chief? Are you okay? Oh, damn, I think you hit your head. Let me get you up.” Jim righted Blair’s chair and helped him into it. Jim tilted his head back to look at the goose egg forming above Blair’s right eye. “What happened, Honey? Where was I going? I can’t remember?” Jim moved towards the fridge to get some frozen peas, but Blair stopped him. “Sit down, Jim, please.”

“Jim you were going to the park. At night. Without me or your jacket, keys and wallet. You scared the shit out of me. You don’t remember?”

Jim opened his eyes wide and rubbed at his face. “I… the last thing I remember. Is talking about your accident with the snake on our fishing trip.”

“Jim. Do you remember… Lee Brackett?”

Jim frowned. “Of course I do. Don’t worry about him, Blair. He’s never getting out of jail. He can’t hurt you. I’ll protect you always, Blair. I’m your Blessed protector, remember?”

Jim stood to get the peas. Blair let him go, as fear for his Sentinel’s sanity clenched his heart. Jim didn’t remember Brackett’s death or the tortuous hours leading to it.

~~~***~~~

Blair lay very still on his futon. Listening to Jim sleeping upstairs. Since Blair wasn’t cleared for taking the stairs, Jim would start out the evening relaxing with Blair on the couch. Blair hadn’t fully recovered from the damage the venom did to his kidneys, so his “Membrum virile,” was not fully operational as yet. Jim seemed to enjoy taking it slow. If he was having problems with “General Jim,” he wasn’t talking about it, preferring to slide behind Blair on his futon, wrap him in his arms and taste him wherever he could. 

These “cat licks” were erotic and peculiarly soothing to Blair. Curious, Blair asked him what he tasted like. Jim thought a moment then told him, “Every part of you tastes different, yet the same. More salt in this spot, more sweet in the other. Herby near the nape of your neck and the edges of your mouth. Spicey on your shoulders, earthy under your chin. And always, always Blair. The most perfect taste of all to me.” 

Blair was enchanted and very content with their slowly evolving prelude to lovemaking. But after a few days of this, Jim’s back began to protest and Blair insisted Jim head upstairs for at least part of the night. Tonight he sent Jim to bed early, hoping some uninterrupted sleep would do him some good. Blair knew he wouldn’t fall asleep easily, worried that Jim might sleepwalk right out the door. Blair rubbed absently at the bump on his head. He felt trapped, he wanted to call Simon for advice, but Jim would hear. He wasn’t sure whether this sudden loss of memory was a good thing or bad.

Coughing and choking, Blair woke to the sound of the fire alarm blaring and the sight of grey smoke filling his room. He sprung from his futon in a panic. He fell to the floor, his legs caught in his sheet and his head feeling like it was spinning right off of his neck. 

“Jim! Jim! Fire!”

Blair crawled to the kitchen and pulled himself up to the counter. He waited a moment for his head to clear and saw that a pan of charcoal black bacon was perilously close to catching the entire kitchen on fire. He fumbled for the dial and turned the gas off under the frying pan. He coughed and sputtered as he reached for the lid just to the side of the pan. He covered it and collapsed to the floor again, resting his head on his knees.

“Jim! Jim! Are you here?” Blair knew he had left. Left in the middle of making breakfast. He crawled over to the balcony and opened the door to let out the smoke. The brisk morning air bathed his sweaty face with cooling relief. As the smoke cleared, Blair looked around in wonder. He could see that the morning coffee was made. An opened egg carton was on the counter. Jim’s jacket and wallet were gone, but his keys and phone were still on the counter. The front door was wide open. He reached for the phone and managed to lift himself onto a kitchen chair. He gave himself another moment for the vertigo to subside then hit Simon’s number, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat, he waited.

//Simon Banks//

//It’s Blair, Simon. I… I’m sorry… but I need you to come to the loft.//

//Blair? What’s wrong, son? Where’s Ellison? Why are you on his cell?//

//Simon, please. I don’t know where Jim is right now, I’m sure he’ll be right back. But… but I need some help here.//

//You’re alone? Listen kid, I’m on my way. Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?//

//No, Simon. I’m okay, just… my head’s so dizzy. It hurts and I can’t think straight.//

//Shit. Blair, you stay where you are. I’ll be there as quick as I can.//

Blair ended the call and laid his head down on the table, cradled in his trembling arms.

~~~***~~~ 

Simon saw the door to #307 was open. He pulled his gun and kicked the door open the rest of the way. A greasy smokey smell was heavy in the air, the balcony door was ajar and Blair looked like he had passed out at the kitchen table. Simon checked out the loft for intruders downstairs and upstairs, then hurried back to Blair’s side. He ran a hand over his head, glad to see he seemed to be breathing normally.

“Sandburg? Son, wake up. What’s going on?”

Blair gasped and coughed. He blinked at the Captain, who was beyond frustrated at this point. “Sandburg! Where’s Jim?”

“Right here. You’re just in time for bagels.” Jim walked in the front door, closed it behind him with a jaunty backwards kick. A fragrant bag of bagels was nestled in the crook of his right arm, a Sunday newspaper was tucked up under his left. He walked to the counter, a bright smile on his face as Blair and Simon looked on. Simon crossed his arms.

“Somebody better tell me why I ran all the traffic lights from my place to yours, my heart in my throat, on a peaceful Sunday morning or I’m locking you both up in the drunk tank till the new millenium.”

Blair reached for Simon’s arm and pleaded with his eyes. “Sit down, Simon. I’ll explain, I promise.” 

Jim brought over three mugs of coffee, taking a few more trips with bagels, plates, utensils, napkins, cream cheese and lox before he sat down next to Blair and ruffled his curls as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You’re always welcome in our home, umm, aaaah… “

Blair’s eyes opened wide. Jim had forgotten his Captain’s name? “Simon. That’s Simon, Jim,” he said gently. Simon shot Blair a worried glance.

“Simon, yeah. Why are you here Simon?”

Blair took Jim’s hand in his. “I called him. Jim, do you remember cooking bacon this morning?” Jim glanced over at the stove and noticed the blackened pan pushed off of the burner. “I… I left the pan turned on? Chief, I don’t remember doing that at all. You sure you didn’t…”

“Jim! Look at the bandages on my hands. The vertigo? No cooking, remember? I woke up to a room full of smoke and the front door open.”

Jim’s face fell and his voice was all concern. “Blair? You didn’t hurt yourself did you? When you got up?”

Simon saw Blair hesitate so he joined in. “Jim. I think you scared the bejesus out of him or he wouldn’t have called me. He didn’t know where you were.” 

“Shit! I left you alone. What was I thinking? Blair? What’s going on with me?”

“It’s been happening for a couple of days, Jim. You’ve forgotten some... details of how I got hurt. You tried to go to the park at night. You left the door open. At first I thought you were… repressing some memories, but what would leaving a stove on have to do with memory suppression? I think you might have… overloaded certain senses. You might be having blackouts. Like walking zones.”

Simon got up to get a refill of coffee for himself. “Listen. This is very intense stuff. Let’s eat these delicious smelling bagels before my senses overload. Sandburg’s okay, Jim. No harm done. He’s getting better everyday. Let’s concentrate on that for a while. Taking care of the kid might be too much for you right now. I can stay over a night or two and Joel would be happy to help. You’re not superman, Jim and you’re not alone.” 

A quiet series of knocks had Simon heading for the front door. He opened it to Millie who was dressed in her Sunday best. “Oh! Hello, Captain Banks! How nice of you to visit the boys on your day off. No wonder they speak so highly of you.”

“Well, hello, Millie! You look so nice today. My grandmother had a pink suit just like that one. Said it made her feel like a Queen. You sure look like one. Won’t you come in for coffee?”

Millie giggled into her gloved hand. “Oh, no. Not today. I’m driving to my sister’s in Seattle. She’s getting on in years and my visits cheer her up. I just wanted to bring the boys this blueberry pie. I made an extra.” She handed Simon a glass pie plate carefully wrapped in tinfoil.

Jim had finally gotten his arm around Blair and didn’t want to let him go. “Thanks, Millie. Have a safe trip. You call me if you have any trouble on the road. You want your clean pots now?”

“No. I won’t need them. Keep getting better, Blair. Take care of him, Jim. Bye, Bye.”

Simon closed the door and sniffed the pie. “I should take this home with me.”

“I know where you live, Simon,” Jim was smiling again and Simon was glad to see it. He placed the pie on the counter and noticed Millie’s odd cookware. “My grandmother must be trying to tell me something. She had that very same set of pots when I was a boy.” 

Blair chuckled while drinking his coffee. “She’s telling you not to steal our pie, Simon.”

Simon picked up a pot and examined it. “Tell Millie not to use these anymore. Aluminum pots are very bad for you, they think aluminum toxicity might be a cause of Alzheimer's disease. Tell you what. I’ll chip in on getting her a nice new set of pots. She cooks for all the police benefits and for you guys. She deserves something shiny and safe.” 

Blair put down his coffee cup and sloshed coffee all over the table. He stood without thinking and grasped his head in his hands. Jim immediately reached out his arms to steady him. “Ahhhhhh! That’s it! Stupid, sluggish brain! I hate being sick!”

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Aluminum. Millie’s old pots. Jim you’ve been pigging out on aluminum tainted food. It’s an allergy. An allergy for you would bring out intense symptoms that would normally take years to appear.”

Simon nodded. “So he had symptoms of Alzheimer's after only a few days?” 

Blair tried to pace but Jim ruthlessly pulled him down on his lap and held on tight. He let Blair use his hands to gesture to Simon who rolled his eyes at their antics. “Yes. The aluminum hasn’t had time to do permanent damage. It should be out of his system in a few days. All we need to do is watch the Big Guy ‘til he’s back to normal. Like you said, you and Joel and the other guys could help out.”

Blair gave Jim such a look of sincere adoration, that he had to kiss him, but Simon brought a halt to that. “Ahh, humm. Good job. What I would expect from my best team. Now cut the cutesy crap and slice me a bagel.”

Jim answered, “Yes, Sir,” and relaxed. He felt safe now that his partner and his Captain were there with him. Jim couldn’t quite remember what it was they said was wrong with him or even why Blair was so anxious. But if Blair said things would be alright then he wouldn’t worry about it. Joel was going to come for a visit for some reason. He liked Joel. He sliced an onion bagel for Simon and an everything bagel for Blair and himself to share, and smothered it with cream cheese and lox. Blair was now talking non-stop about the significance of cooking pots in primitive cultures. Simon was reading the sports section and nodding, while Jim fed Blair alternate bites of bagel, savoring the taste of fully loaded bagels and Sunday morning with his precious family.


End file.
